Always There
by theconsultingdreamer
Summary: When Dean dies, he doesn't attach his spirit to his body. Sam gets more than just the Impala. A story about a boy who loved his brother (and his car) too much to move on after death.
1. Chapter 1

He never should've let Dean go alone. Never mind that he couldn't get out of bed. He should've hauled his ass down the stairs and out of Bobby's house and into the passenger seat of the Impala, where he belonged. Then maybe he wouldn't be standing next to the pyre where his brother's body was burning. "It's just a vengeful spirit, Sam. I'll be fine."

They hadn't been counting on a second spirit. Dean had been caught off guard, and a knife had gone through his stomach. He'd died pretty soon after. Another hunter had found him, and had called Sam to let him know.

Bobby helped him bring the body back to the salvage yard. He had stood out with Sam as Dean burned, but after a couple hours, he had gone back inside to let Sam grieve alone.

The night sky was crystal clear, almost like black velvet studded with diamonds. It was one of those nights where they would have pulled off the road to watch the stars. The pain in Sam's chest was fierce as he thought about Dean handing him a beer as they settled onto the roof.

Picking up the bottle of whiskey he'd been drinking from all night, he took a swig and said, "Here's one for you." Stumbling over to the pyre, he dumped the rest of the bottle onto the fire before crumbling to the ground and sobbing.

After a few days, he figured it was time to hit the road again. Dean had left him the Impala, and at first Sam felt so wrong in the driver's seat without Dean beside him that he had to pull over and take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. As he was wiping the tears from his face, he thought he felt arms around him, and a voice whispering, "Don't be such a girl." But it must've been his imagination.

Sam kept hunting, sometimes with Bobby, but mostly solo. The radio in the car always seemed to get stuck on the classic rock stations, no matter what he did. A Metallica tape was stuck in the tape player, and it would start playing randomly. Sam always joked to himself that it must've been Dean's ghost. Every time the radio acted up, Sam would mutter, "Don't be such a jerk, Dean."

He nearly crashed the car the day a shadowy image of Dean appeared in the passenger seat and said with a smirk, "Don't be such a bitch, Sammy."

"Dean!" Once he got the car safely to the shoulder, he stared at the apparition of his dead brother. "But, we salted and burned you!"

"You think I'd latch onto my own body?" Dean smirked. "I'm with the car, Sam. I've been here all along."

"But…But why weren't you here sooner?" Sam still wasn't over the shock.

"It takes a bit of practice." Dean rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he stopped and looked out of the windshield. "It's a really clear night. Got any beer?"

"Can you even have beer?"

"No, you idiot. I'm dead. For you."

Sam nodded. "Oh. Um, yeah." He stepped out of the car and grabbed a beer from the cooler in the back before settling onto the hood. Dean sat beside him, just like old times. After a bit of silence, Sam sighed. "I've missed you, Dean."

"I would say the same, except I've had to deal with your annoying music for a month now."

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered "Jerk."

Dean grinned. "Bitch."

"It's good to have you here." Sam said quietly.

"It's good to be here." Dean replied. "Now shut up. I'm trying to enjoy the view."

Dean's presence made driving between hunts a little better, even when Dean was being an ass. But, he who is impatient in life is impatient in death, and Dean never did well with sitting around and waiting. The second Sam got back in the car after a hunt, Dean was jumping all over him, and making sure he was okay. It was hurting him not to be able to watch over his little brother.

Some nights, Sam chose not to get a motel and just slept in the car so he could have some time with Dean. The times when he did get a motel, he'd leave the TV on while he slept, because it was always too quiet without Dean's snoring.

Waking up from nightmares to an empty room always sucked. It was times like that when he would shuffle out to the Impala and sit for a while, not speaking, but letting Dean's presence comfort him.

Sam was constantly asking Dean about life after death, and Dean was constantly telling him, "I'm still here. It's not any different, except being stuck in this car."

One day, Sam brought up the topic of vengeful spirits. "I don't want you becoming one."

Dean snorted. "Do I seem very vengeful to you?"

"No, but as time goes on, you're not gonna wanna be stuck here."

"If it gets to that point, you know what to do."

Sam brushed his hair from his face. "Burn the Impala."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but yes. Oh god, I can't think about you burning my baby."

But Sam's dark mood wasn't over. "Dean, what if something happens to me, and I can't burn her before I die? You'll be stuck here."

"Attach your giant ass to this thing too. We can be stuck here forever."

"Dean, I'm serious."

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders, sending a chill through the younger man. "Sam, relax. I'm not going vengeful, and you aren't gonna die."

Sam nodded weakly. "Okay."

Dean sat back in his seat again. "Alright, enough chick flick time. Let's hit the road, Sammy. There's places to be."

So, I'm thinking this is gonna be a two shot. I know how I want it to play out, but any suggestions? Reviews are love.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam!"

Sam shook himself a bit. Dean glared at him from the passenger seat. "I will turn this car off and make sure you can't start it again if you don't pull off and get some sleep."

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam said, yawning.

"That's the second time you've dozed off. You need sleep, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think dying made you more annoying."

"That's because I'm stuck here all the time, and I can't have your back!"

Sam shook his head again to avoid dozing off. The cars engine sputtered and died. "Come on Dean!" Sam yelled, frustrated.

"No."

Sam slapped the steering wheel. "Hey! Be nice to my baby!" Dean howled. Sam rolled his eyes.

"If you're gonna be a jerk, I might as well sleep."

"Good."

Sam leaned his head against the window and was out within seconds. He'd been awake for nearly 29 hours. Quietly, Dean pulled the blanket from the back seat over his little brother. He turned the radio down so it was background noise, and turned the heat up enough so Sam would be comfortable.

Sam woke up a few hours later to Dean humming Metallica in the passenger seat. He stretched and groaned. "Metallica again?"

Dean grinned cockily. Sam rolled his eyes and started the car. "Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

"Thanks."

Dean nodded and went back to humming Metallica.

As time went on, Dean grew restless. Sam worried that he was turning vengeful, but couldn't force himself to bring it up. He didn't want to lose Dean.

But it ate away at him. If his brother was truly unhappy, and honestly, who wouldn't be, stuck in that car all the time, he felt he should try and help Dean. Even if that meant setting fire to the car.

He brought it up one night. "Do you want to move on?"

Dean looked up. "What do you mean?"

"You know, go into the light and all that."

Dean's eyes widened. "Aw hell no, Sammy! You aren't torching my car, and you aren't sending me to sing with the angels!"

"You want to stay stuck in this car all the time?"

Dean shrugged. "I mean, it's not so bad…"

"You're going crazy, not being able to leave."

Dean's face hardened. "Sam. The answer is no."

"Okay." Sam nodded and focused on the road as they drove along.

Maybe if Sam hadn't been trying to think of other plans, he would've seen the truck.

Maybe if Dean hadn't been worrying about Sam, he would've yelled out a warning.

Maybe if he had glanced up a second sooner, he would've had time to get out of the way.

Maybe if he had blown the horn as he swerved away, Derek Johnson, the driver of the truck, who was on his 19th hour of driving, would've woken up.

Maybe if he'd woken up, this whole mess would've been avoided.

But that wasn't how things played out. Sam glanced up a second too late, Dean yelled out a second too late, and the car swerved a second too late. The sound of the crash was deafening, enough to wake Derek up for a second, enough time for him to think "Holy shit what is…" before his head hit the steering wheel and he was knocked unconscious.

Sam's forehead was bleeding. He was breathing, but he wasn't responding to Dean's frantic yelling. "Sam!"

A burning smell filled the air. "No, no, no, fuck!" Dean yelled. He tried to shake Sam awake with hands of vapor. "Sam! Sammy, please!"

Dean could see the flames by now. His mind raced as he thought of the amount of salt they kept in the trunk. This couldn't be happening. "Sammy!" he screamed.

The world was getting brighter, too bright. Everything was being consumed by light. "No, please, no, Sam!"

The cry left his mouth as the spirit of Dean Winchester vanished into a puff of smoke.

He opened his eyes to find himself sitting on the hood of the Impala in Bobby's salvage yard. "What the…?"

A man he had never seen before, a lanky man in a suit with a trench coat over it, walked up to him. The first thing Dean noticed was the shocking blue color of the man's eyes. "This is your Heaven, Dean."

"Who are you? Are you God?"

"No. Who I am does not matter. What matters is that you are here."

"But Sam…"

The blue eyed man smiled ruefully. "Samuel Winchester will be alright."

"He's gonna live."

"Why don't you see for yourself?" The man looked pointedly over his shoulder, then back at Dean. Dean took a deep breath and turned around.

Sam stood there, hair messy, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. He had a sad smile on his face, and an expression that said 'well, I fucked up.'

"Hey."

"Sam? Is it actually you? Are you…are you dead?"

Sam nodded. "Carbon monoxide inhalation from the fire."

"Jesus, Sam…"

"Hey. We're in Heaven. We're done."

Dean nodded, then laughed. Sam gave him a look. "What now?"

"Who would've thought we'd have the same Heaven?"

Sam stared at him for a moment, then laughed. Dean turned around to face the blue eyed man again, who was still standing there, that strange, rueful smile still on his face. "This Heaven, is it just Bobby's junkyard?"

"No. It can be whatever you want it to be. You can drive out of those gates and go anywhere, but this is the home base, as you would say. You can always come back here, because this is what you consider your home."

Sam spoke up from behind him. "You said anywhere?"

"Anywhere. This is Heaven. It molds itself to whatever makes the person, or in this case, people, happy. For you two, it's traveling. It's the endless road. So that road will take you anywhere you want to go."

Sam nodded, and a melancholy smile spread across his face. "Out of all people, who would've thought we'd get a happy ending?"

Dean smiled and shook his head. When he looked up again, the blue eyed man was staring straight at him. "Out of all people, I would say you deserve it the most."

"I must leave now, but if you need me, call for me. My name is Castiel." And with that, he vanished. Dean blinked for a moment, and looked over at Sam. "Where do you want to go first?"

"Disneyworld."

"Are you serious?"

"I've always wanted to go!"

Dean laughed. "Okay bitch. Get in."

Sam shot Dean a glare over the roof of the car as he opened his door. "Jerk."

They slid into their seats. Dean turned the key, and the Impala roared to life. "Man, it's good to be back behind the wheel."

He put her in gear, and they pulled out onto the road.

I felt they deserved a happy ending.


End file.
